Journey to You
by LittleLauren
Summary: We all know Hermione is a brilliant witch, but how did she travel to Australia and single-handedly restore her parents' memories? I personally think she had some help. #Romione lol
1. Holding Hands

A/N: Here I go again. This week in my mind: the good ship Romione! This one goes hand in hand with my recent drabble, _What Remains_. When will I stop? The world may never know…

Journey to You

Chapter 1: Holding Hands

Hermione sat in the Great Hall eating breakfast. Ron was sitting next to her, holding her hand under the table (as he's grown so accustomed to doing at this point), as McGonagall announced the day's agenda.

"I would like to have the Grand Staircase completely fixed by this afternoon. We are currently up to the fifth floor thanks to Professor Flitwick's team." There was a small round of applause. "For those working with Professor Hagrid today, please be careful in the Forest-"

"If I may, Minerva," boomed Firenze from the far end of the Great Hall. "The centaurs would like to assist with protections of your kind going into the Forest."

McGonagall nodded. "Very well." She went on to assign more jobs to those who have finished their previous tasks.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione have yet to officially be assigned anything within the week they have been there to rebuild. But somehow, they were the most involved. Harry was always annoyed that he was never considered for a task.

"I only saved the bloody world," he'd mumble, to which Ron and Hermione would ignore.

But this day was different. "I need all of the D.A. present in my office after breakfast," McGonagall concluded, causing the handful of D.A. members to look at each other.

As Hermione, Ron, and Harry walked up to the Head Mistress's Office, they wondered what they were needed for.

"I hope it's not another bloody interview," groaned Ron.

"Don't worry," said Harry. "I told McGonagall to hold off on that for now."

They arrived in her office with Kingsley Shacklebolt beside McGonagall. Neville, Luna, Ginny and the rest of the D.A. were crowding around the old office.

"Ah, good, you're all here," Kingsley said. He stood up, looked at them and smiled. "You all have been working so hard since the beginning. And your efforts have not gone unnoticed." Ron took Hermione's hand, like he had for the passed two weeks. Kingsley flourished his wand, and pieces of parchment appeared on McGonagall's desk. "I know this isn't much, but on behalf of the Ministry of Magic, we would like to extend your acceptance into the Auror Department as a proper chance to reform. All those who are under the age of seventeen are still considered until they become of age."

Harry, Neville, Ron and a few younger members grinned, while the rest looked at each other.

"This is great, Kingsley," said Harry. "Where do I sign?"

"On your contract, if you wish."

Harry did not hesitate.

Neville was the next one to walk up, somewhat slowly, but proudly signed on the dotted line. Seamus thumped him on the back as a congratulations.

One by one some students signed up and shook Kingsley's hand.

Hermione could feel Ron's grip slipping, which caused her to blurt out, "What about school?" Everyone looked at her. "Aren't they supposed to test in with N.E.W.T. levels? We can all agree that we haven't exactly had a proper year."

"Hermione, you can't be-" Ron began, but Kingsley stopped him by raising up his hand.

"I understand your concern, but the Wizengamot agreed that a fresh crew would do best with reform," Kingsley explained. "Anyone who applies must train with the new recruits. It's not an easy path, but I am confident that you all have what it takes to be in our ranks."

Hermione face drew weary and Harry looked up at his best mate expectantly. Ron let go of Hermione's hand, walking forward to grab a quill; however, before he signed, he paused. "I can't," he whispered. "Not yet." He looked up at Kingsley. "I'm sorry, but I have to be with my family right now."

Hermione let out a breath of relief. She knew Harry would want to start Auror training right away, but Ron was different. Maybe they could have a proper year at Hogwarts for once. Studying together, going to Hogsmeade, playing chess… It all sounded like a nice life.

"I understand," said Kingsley. He shook his hand. "I can't wait to have you on board, Mr. Weasley."

Ron slumped slightly as everyone else politely turned down the offer or accepted it. Hermione touched his arm gently. As everyone else started to trickle out, Kingsley was talking to Harry, Neville, and some other people about the training process.

"Come on," mumbled Ron, sounding defeated. "Let's go."

"Wait," Hermione whispered. "I have to talk to him. I have to know what's going on with my parents."

"What if he doesn't know anything yet?"

"It won't hurt to ask though, right?" Ron shrugged, and Hermione smiled at him. It seemed like forever since she remembered using those muscles. "You can go if you'd like-"

"I'm staying."

"But it's not-"

"Hermione." He held her hand. It felt so natural now. "I'm staying."

So, they waited until Kingsley was finished talking with Harry and Neville.

"Kingsley, I wondered if I could have a quick word," started Hermione.

Kingsley gave Hermione a sympathetic look. "I'm sorry Ms. Granger, I haven't heard anything from my team yet."

"Are you _quite_ sure…?" Hermione desperately tried to suppress her tears from falling.

"We are doing everything we can. You know how difficult it is to find people who don't know that they are in hiding."

"But maybe I didn't give you all the information. I have a plan that could work. We just need the help of some magical ambassadors-"

"We went over everything multiple times. It is very difficult to get in contact with so many countries, especially at a time like this. There are still Death Eaters lurking about, and we must keep our guards up. We just have to believe that no news is good news."

There was a pause, and then Hermione straightened up and said, "I'll find them myself."

"No, you can't-!" started Ron, but Hermione coldly interrupted him.

"You know I bloody well can!" She looked around. "You _all_ know I can."

Kingsley sighed, quite knowing that this witch will not be dissuaded. "I will send a team with you-"

"I don't need a-"

"We'll go with you, Hermione," said Harry.

Neville nodded.

"No, I need to do this alone."

"Merlin, Hermione, now you just sound like Harry!" exclaimed Ron. Everyone looked at the red head. Even Harry shook his head in agreement. Ron took her by the shoulders and looked her square in the face. "If you don't want to bring along a whole team, that's fine. At least let me go with you."

"Ron, I-"

"It's not up for negotiation," he said boldly. He turned to Kingsley. "Let me know when we are safe to go."

Kingsley nodded. "We'll make plans tomorrow. I must warn you, it will be a slow process."

"I understand," she said without hesitation, her heart quickening. "Thank you, Kingsley."

Hermione argued with Ron the whole way down to the Great Hall.

"Aren't you gonna do anything about this?" Neville asked Harry.

"There's no stopping them in a row," Harry sighed to his friend. "Besides, now balance has been restored. They've been way too quiet for far too long."


	2. Funerals

Journey to You

Chapter 2: Funerals

Hermione awoke with a jolt, breathing heavy. Ginny's room was dark, but thankfully she had the moon to comfort her. She wiped the sweat off of her forehead and burned a candle with the tip of her wand. Mrs. Weasley made sure everyone in the house took a Dreamless Sleep potion before bed, but sometimes, one nightmare crept into Hermione's dreams. Figuring it was futile to try to go back to bed, she opted to read.

This sensation of insomnia was not new to her. There were times at school in which she would be found in the Library buried in notes and revision until Madam Pince forced her out. From there, she remembered pacing the Gryffindor Common Room, unable to turn off her brain, knowing that sleep was important. In her fifth year, she decided to knit scarves and hats, which coincidentally helped with her S.P.E.W. campaign.

Hermione bit her nails while she read her book on Memory Charm Reversal. She had read many books on this particular magic in the past, but this information has never been as important as it was now. Every time she finished a book, she'd want to start all over. She did not want her parents ending up like Gilderoy Lockhart. She wouldn't forgive herself if it did.

"Hermione?" Ginny yawned.

Hermione shot her head up to look at her well-rested friend. "Morning."

"Have you been up all night?"

"No," she lied quickly.

The two girls looked at each other for a moment; Ginny's suspiciousness made Hermione's heart pound. She didn't want to be questioned so early in the morning, especially with the funerals they endured all this week. After all that has happened, everybody came to a quiet consensus that now is not a good time to talk. They didn't know when, but they knew it would have to happen soon.

Ginny nodded and plopped back down onto her pillow. "I don't want to get up," she admitted.

Hermione responded by turning a page.

"I don't want to deal with anymore sad people. I don't want to see my mother cry again for the third day in a row." She gave a big sigh. "I don't want Aunt Muriel telling me that Fred was her favorite. We all know he wasn't."

They both smiled to themselves.

"Who do you reckon is her favorite?" Hermione chanced, finally putting her book down.

"Funnily enough," she said slowly. "I think it might be Ron."

Hermione chuckled softly. "He can't stand her."

"Exactly." Ginny sat up again, a small mischievous grin sliding onto her lips. "She dotes on that boy so much, it's probably insufferable for him. But I always had a feeling she knows he avoids her, and all of us voluntarily say hello. She likes the chase, that old bat."

They laughed a little more. Anything to get rid of the hurt that both of them were feeling inside. It felt like a normal day, but it wasn't.

There was a knock at the door. "Girls, breakfast is ready if you want it," came Bill's deep voice from the other side.

Never did Hermione think she'd thank Fleur for helping out while the family grieved. Mrs. Weasley, forever the strong nurturer, couldn't handle so many people at the Burrow after such a tragedy. When Fleur offered to help, Hermione and everyone else thought Mrs. Weasley would put up a stubborn fight. Surprisingly on the contrary, she hugged her daughter-in-law and retired to her bedroom. There was a definite shift in mood when that happened; everyone looked up to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley for guidance and support. When they were grieving, it was like the whole house lost hope. Eventually, Bill and Fleur kept up the morale for the week, and everyone seemed grateful.

As the girls walked down the stairs, Ginny joked, "Bet you two galleons she's made some crazy French breakfast."

Mr. Weasley was sitting at the head of the table, staring down at his cup of tea. Honestly, they weren't expecting anyone else to come down, except maybe Harry.

"Morning, Dad," Ginny chanced.

Mr. Weasley looked up as if he was just awoken from a dreamless daydream. He forced a small smile that did not reach his eyes. "Morning, ladies." He resumed his sad position as Fleur turned around.

"Good Morning!" Fleur breathed, trying to keep up morale. She brandished a tray of assorted croissants, of which Ginny and Hermione took one. " _Manger_. And eef you do not like zis, I 'ave made eggs."

The girls sat down and Fleur went back to the stove. Ginny examined her croissant; she banged it against the table to see if it was too hard to eat.

"You've eaten a croissant before," Hermione whispered, picking off a piece of her own.

"I know," she mumbled, shifty-eyed. "Just making sure it's edible."

Ginny tried to spark some conversation with her father, but he excused himself not long after. He kissed the top of her head and uttered, "If anyone needs me, I'll be in the shed."

The three women ate in silence.

Hermione enjoyed the peace and quiet but could tell Ginny needed a distraction. "Do you think you'll get Quidditch Captain this year?"

The spark of a conversation relieved Ginny, and she gave a cheeky smile. "Most definitely. The last time we played, I won the Quidditch Cup for us. If it's given to McLaggen or Klein, you might mysteriously see them in the hospital wing a few days before the first match. Then, they'd realize what a mistake they've made. I'd never pansy out if I got two broken bones and inching powder in my robes."

"Sounds like Quidditch in here." Bill came in, grabbing a croissant from the food tray and kissing Fleur's temple.

"I 'ave never played," said Fleur, stuffing some scrambled eggs in her mouth. "But I would like to learn."

Ginny's eyes lit up. "You could take Hermione's place, she's rubbish. No offense, Hermione."

"None taken," she said dully. It was true she wasn't the best Quidditch player, especially compared to Harry and the Weasley's. She could barely keep herself steady on a broomstick. She would gladly sit out a game and watch Fleur make a fool out of herself.

They heard feet blundering down the steps. "Whatever's cooking smells delightful," muffled Ron's unmistakable voice. Hermione's heart leapt but was reminded of his constant forceful gallantry. She still did not want him to travel with her, if only to make his family not worry about his well-being anymore.

Fleur picked up her food tray and offered a croissant to a sullen Ron and to Harry, whose eyes looked lidded and completely sunken in. Hermione huffed at his obvious lack of sleep. But she couldn't blame him.

Remus and Tonks' funeral was three days ago, and Harry was a bit worse for wear. They were buried in Godric's Hallow, a few feet away from Harry's parents. Although it was what Harry thought was appropriate, it also seemed too much for him emotionally. Putting aside their argument about Australia, Ron and Hermione stayed close to one another. They were there for Harry when he gave a speech on Remus and Tonks' behalf, and they understood when he silently excused himself from the congregation afterwards.

They all ate breakfast, knowing that Percy was most likely busying himself with cleaning the joke shop, Charlie was distracting himself with work, and George was probably still asleep. With all the alcohol he's consumed in the last three days alone, it would alarm anyone. No one could really tell him off for it except Ginny. And sometimes, she would even join him.

This would be the first time Hermione has seen him in days since he locked himself up in his room. She would ask Ginny how he was, but she'd say the same thing: "I don't know."

George's state troubled everyone, and they were all anxious to see how he would behave during his twin's funeral.

Hermione's thoughts were stifled by Ron's moan. "These are really great, Fleur," he said. "What is this one?" He pointed at a round pastry with little brown specks on the sides.

Fleur smiled. " _Pains au chocolat_."

"I don't know what that is, but I heard chocolate." He took a bite and emitted another moan of delight.

"Must you do that at the table?" Hermione couldn't help herself from criticizing.

Ron swallowed and drowned it down with some orange juice. "What, eat? Yes, I must."

"No," she exasperated. "That… sound."

"If something is good, I compliment the chef. What's so bad about giving out a compliment?"

"Nothing." She regretted saying anything. There was no point in picking fights when they know the real argument they've been having for the last two weeks has been nothing but about Australia. They looked at each other. "What?" she asked rather harshly, hoping to just get their daily fight over with.

He looked a bit concerned as he furrowed his brow at her. Still, he mumbled, "Nothing."

The exchange was a bit more than awkward for everyone, so Hermione took this time to leave the table, wash up and get ready for the day's gloomy events. This was not a time to fight. She had to be there for Ron; he was probably covering up his hurt, just like Ginny and Bill had been.

She was combing the knots out of her wet hair when Ginny came in. She seemed a lot more somber than she had when she woke up.

"Mum came down," she said, looking into her wardrobe.

Hermione looked up and saw Ginny's shoulders shake up and down. She immediately dropped her comb and ran to her friend's side.

"Ginny…" she faded, not knowing exactly what to say to make her feel better.

Hermione has only ever seen Ginny cry once, when she broke her ankle in the Department of Mysteries two years ago. She was always very strong in front of other people. Hermione didn't know how to comfort someone who rarely showed weakness. But Ginny didn't seem to care. She put all of her strong walls down for a second and held onto Hermione tight as she let her tears fall freely.

They stood there quietly for a while, Ginny heaving silent cries and Hermione squeezing her with one hand and stroking her hair with the other. This was definitely not a time to be brave or embarrassed.

She felt Ginny begin to wiggle out of Hermione's grasp. Ginny wiped her tears and sniffled. "Thank you," she croaked.

Hermione nodded, frightened that Ginny was holding in her hurt despite her breakdown. Ginny took a deep breath and they prepared for the funeral in silence. They knew people had arrived already; their hushed voices bumbled from below.

"What do you think?" Ginny asked, twirling around. She wore such bright colors; you'd think she was going to a party.

Hermione smiled, knowing that Ginny wanted to best personify her brother's memory. "Perfect."

They opened the door to go downstairs, but they were greeted with George standing at the top of the first floor staircase. He was leaning against the wall, staring down at the landing.

Ginny walked up to him and put a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Looking good, big bro," she tried. He did nothing but breathe in and out slowly. "Why don't we go down together?"

"The speaker sounds like a small frog who swallowed a huge fly," he commented, his voice low and more unusual than what Hermione was used to.

Ginny snorted, "He kind of does."

"We should get going," Hermione suggested behind them. She didn't mean to sound insensitive, but it was nearly time for the service to start.

Ginny shot her a harsh glance, and said, "Whenever you're ready, George. We're right behind you."

"No, she's right," he said. "It's time to get this show on the road."

' _Show?_ ' Hermione thought as they walked down and out to the garden.

Many people stared at George as if he was a porcelain figure on display, afraid he would break at anyone's touch or words. But Ginny was George's feisty protector. Even though Ginny was a puddle in Hermione's arms not too long ago, she spoke to everyone so George didn't have to. She even tried to get George to laugh by asking their relatives uncomfortable questions. Try as she might, George's lips didn't even twitch.

Hermione glanced around at the sea of redheads before her, trying her best to spot Ron and Harry. Remembering what Ginny said this morning about her Aunt Muriel, her search narrowed greatly. She followed the heavy voice of a talkative woman through the garden. Lo and behold, she found Ron looking as if he was suffering to get out of a conversation with this woman, who was currently blowing her nose so loud it sounded like a brass trumpet.

"Excuse me," Hermione interrupted her. Ron looked relieved to she her. "You're Mum asked me to fetch you, Ron. Something about extra gnomes hiding in the barn…"

And with that, the two of them snuck off to where she left Ginny and George. They all found seats in front, closest to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. As much as they probably would have preferred to sit in the back, they wanted to represent Fred in the best light.

"Where's Harry?" Hermione whispered. No one answered as the speaker started the service.

"Thank you all for coming," croaked the speaker. "It is with great sorry and deepest sympathy to be gathered here on such an unfortunate occasion…"

Hermione heard Ron sniffle next to her; tears ran down the long of his nose and onto his lap. Choking up, she held on to Ron's hand tight as the service progressed. They didn't look at each other, but Ron would give Hermione faint squeezes to return the affection. Although they might be fighting, they knew it was because they cared about each other. She was crying herself, but she could only imagine how Ron felt.

The serviceman kept going on and on about Fred's many accomplishments in life, most of them embellishments from the truth. Hermione assumed it was to ease Mr. and Mrs. Weasley's minds. But, George couldn't take it.

"No," he grumbled, letting go of Ginny's hand. "No, no, this is all wrong."

"George…" Ginny began, but her brother was already up and storming off, kicking his chair over for good measure. Ginny followed after him. All eyes were on them until the serviceman cleared his gloppy throat and continued on.

Hermione turned to see if the two were okay. She did not see George, but Ginny was still in the back near the big oak tree. She was halted in her tracks, it seemed, for Harry was leaning against the trunk. This was the first time Hermione had seen them look at each other since the battle, and it didn't seem like they were going to look away any time soon.

She looked back at Ron, who hastily wiped his tears away on the hem of his robes. They looked into each other's bloodshot eyes, and seemed to be on the same wavelength. They both knew, in that moment, that they were going to stick by each other, no matter the hardship.

Suddenly, a loud bang erupted into the sky. Hermione jolted and was about to reach for her wand when the sky read in red lights: _This is Fred speaking from the great beyond._ Another firework erupted below it: _Aunt Muriel, that hat looks hideous from up here._

Some people chuckled, knowing that it was as good of a sendoff for Fred than they could have hoped for. The service was disrupted by loud and bright fireworks jumping around the congregation. Many of them erupted crude words and gestures into the sky.

The speaker attempted to continue, but he was hit with a curse that made him croak like an actual frog every time he opened his mouth to speak. If no one was laughing yet, they were now.

Hermione knew this was most definitely George's doing. For George, it was probably just something he had to do. For everyone else, it was a symbol of hope that things would get better.


	3. Ron Says Relax

Journey to You

Chapter 3: Ron Says Relax

Hermione sat up against the big oak tree, flipping through a book. This was a common sight to see other than avoiding Ron. Her answer was still no; she wasn't going to allow him to leave his family. She knew what to do when she got there. She didn't need help.

Mesmerized by her book, she didn't mind when a figure sat down next to her.

She heard Ron sigh. "Beautiful day," he said lamely. When he didn't get a reply, he asked, "What are you reading?"

"I'm not reading," she said simply.

Ron glanced over her shoulder at a collage of unmoving photographs. They were all of Hermione and her mother and father. He looked up at her concentrated face, and pushed some hair away to see her profile better. "You'll find them, Hermione," he whispered.

"I know," her voice shook, nodding quickly. She breathed in and closed her eyes. "I don't want you to leave your family-"

"Do me a favor," he interrupted her, putting a hand on hers. "Let's not fight about this. Not today."

Hermione blinked, scrutinizing his dark circles under his eyes. "You haven't been sleeping?"

Ron shook his head. "If you won't let me go with you, at least let me help you plan your trip. I know how it feels to- to lose someone. And, family is important."

His sentiment warmed her heart. She leaned against him as he put an arm around her shoulder. It was a simple gesture, but it meant so much to her. "Thank you, Ron."

"I have my moments," he joked.

The tension around them slightly dulled, they sat there for the rest of the afternoon. Hermione showed Ron pictures of her family, sharing some of her old childhood memories. He was genuinely interested in what she had to say. He even gave her some suggestions on where to go during her travels to Australia, of which she shrugged off.

"Oh, I don't think I'd have time to do anything fun," she scoffed. "This is a mission."

"It is a mission, but I don't want you to be completely stressed and knackered."

She broke out of their comfortable position and glared at Ron. "I won't be completely-!" But she stopped when she saw Ron's eyebrow raise. "I know what I'm doing," she said stubbornly.

"I never said you didn't know what you were doing," Ron said, furrowing his brow in concern.

"Why do you look at me like that?"

"Ginny told me you haven't been sleeping."

"You haven't either," she shot back.

He ignored her. "You expect anyone here to be alright with you leaving, knowing that you aren't sleeping? Hermione, that's crazy."

"I thought you said you were fine with not going with me."

"I'm not fine with it, but I won't go if you promise to relax. Maybe see a Quidditch game? I heard Germany is really heating up this season…"

Hermione blushed, looking down at her books. "Why do you care so much?"

Her words struck a chord with Ron as his ears turned red. "Because, I do, I don't know."

The tension was back and with full force. It was almost too much for them to bare, but they smiled shyly and didn't dare look at each other. Ron looked up at the sky while Hermione picked at the binding of one of her books.

After some time of anticipation, Ron sighed and said, "I'm hungry. You hungry? I think Fleur's made some sort of stew for dinner tonight. Maybe she needs some help." And with that, Ron darted towards the house, leaving Hermione alone.

That was one thing about Ron that confused Hermione the most. She knew what she did during the heat of battle, and she also did not imagine Ron reciprocating her affection. It frustrated her with how much she fancied him, and found it rather confusing when he'd push and pull his emotions. Granted, she had not been in the right state of mind to talk about their feelings, but there was a part of her that knew there would never be a perfect time.

But his concern for her well-being has been so touching… and a bit unexpected. Not even Harry had been this persistent. But maybe that's because Harry knew that Hermione had to do this alone. Or without him.

In all honesty, Hermione would love to have Ron come along. But she could not take him away from his family in good conscience. She is able to take care of herself, but there was something about Ron's company that made her feel confident and grounded. Safe, even.

Maybe a familiar face would be what she needed after all.


	4. Money Woes

Journey to You

Chapter 4: Money Woes

"Ron? Ron! It's time to get up." Hermione nudged the very stiff young man, who would not let go of the the seat's armrests.

He stared blankly ahead, not caring that many people were boarding out of their plane. Their flight was rocky. Nothing out of the ordinary for Hermione, who has used air travel before, but Ron was not expecting turbulence. He refused to sit by the window, afraid that he might be sucked out. He didn't fully grasp the whole Muggle transport like he said he would. He held onto the armrests and didn't let go for the entire flight.

"Oh, for goodness sake!" Hermione snapped her fingers in front of his face. "We're here."

"Where?"

"Germany." She pushed him out of his seat at last and into the aisle. She reached up for their luggage, two small backpacks, and pushed him in the right direction.

Once they were in the airport, Ron relaxed as if he held his breath the whole flight. "I never thought I'd be so afraid of flying."

"Oh, it wasn't that bad," Hermione smiled, rubbing his back. "I told you to imagine it like a communal broomstick."

"At least you can control a broomstick," he breathed, taking a sip of water Hermione offered from her bag.

Hermione continued to peer down at him. She wasn't used to seeing him so winded from something so trivial. He's been through war and back, and the one thing that makes him almost faint with fear is air travel. "Come on," she sympathized. "Let's get something to eat."

Ron held onto her hand as she guided them through the busy German airport. There were so many fast food places. Some were chain restaurants that Hermione recognized, while others were privately owned authentic German cuisines. She stopped them in the middle of a food court, but Ron didn't let go of her hand.

"Your pick," she gestured to the masses.

Ron surveyed the crowded services. "You know me," he said. "I'm not that picky."

They ate at this quaint German restaurant, talking the entire time. Most of their conversations consisted of the mission, but they also made light of their situation. Bringing Ron along was a great decision, Hermione figured, for he really knew how to keep her on task while also having fun. He gave Hermione the hope and confidence she needed to find her parents and restore their memories.

She paid their waiter with what Muggle money they had.

"Oh, bugger," she mumbled, fishing around in her purse.

Ron looked at her inquisitively while chewing on the rest of his schnitzel.

Hermione slumped. "We need to get more money."

"We don't have enough?"

"Not enough for tickets and this food," she whimpered.

"When is the next flight?"

She checked her watch. "We have two hours. And it's already getting dark…"

They finished their meal and maneuvered their way to the airport entrance. "Do you know exactly where to go?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Honestly, Ronald. It's a wonder you've made it this far without knowing your History of Magic."

"I can't help that Binns was the most boring professor to ever teach!"

"Anyway," she disregarded his retort. "We're in Munich. That's only an Apparation away from Schwangau!"

Ron's eyes lit up. "That's where the German National Quidditch Stadium is!"

"And their bank," Hermione added.

They shifted through the crowds and finally found a deserted spot to Apparate. She looked at him apprehensively. "Do you know where the stadium is exacly?"

Ron scoffed and took her hand. "Do I know where the stadium is…"

They Apparated on the spot, twisting and turning through space and time it seemed. Hermione squeezed Ron's hand tighter as she felt them near their destination. Their feet hit the ground roughly, knocking them both into each other. There was a short moment in which they stood in that spot, looking at each other. Hermione felt her face get warmer, so she let go and ducked her head down. This wasn't the right moment.

Ron cleared his throat. "You alright?"

"Fine," she squeaked. She surveyed the area. The outside of the stadium looked rather deserted. "I thought you said there would be a game today?"

"There was a game today," Ron said, looking up at the domed entrance. "Could've be over though. Germany has been dominating this season."

Hermione turned around and saw a long stony road leading to another archway. People were moving up and down the street beyond an archway. "My guess is the bank is that way."

Ron glanced down at an anxious Hermione, and lifted her chin up. "Don't worry. No one is going to recognize us. You have some Polyjuice potion as a backup anyway, right?"

"Like always," she replied quietly, patting her backpack gently.

Ron smiled which made Hermione feel loads better. "Then we have nothing to fear."

She took his outstretched hand again and they walked towards the bustling streets of Wizarding Germany. It looked a bit like Diagon Alley but with more emphasis on Quidditch (if that was possible) and Vampires. Hermione found it all quite hypocritical; while werewolves were ostracized in the Wizarding World, Vampires seemed to be celebrated and almost idolized. She had to get a closer look at a poster promoting a local band, Die Fangzähne, consisting of only Vampires.

"Which one is the bank, do you recon?" Ron asked.

Hermione searched their surroundings. It was difficult to navigate where they were with the language barrier and so many people pushing through, shouting about the apparent Quidditch victory. "Erm…" She caught sight of a rickety directory and darted for it, tugging Ron along. "Aha!" She pointed at a sign that clearly had "BANK" in the title to go left.

Feeling accomplished, she sped through the crowd, making a beeline for the big stone cathedral-sized building on the end of the winding road.

"Hermione!" Ron called after her. "Slow down!"

But she wanted to be absolutely certain they could exchange for some Muggle money and get back to the airport before their flight to China. She turned around to see a struggling Ron. "Come on, we're almost there!" But when she turned back around she was faced with a clump of Quidditch fans blundering towards them. They seemed preoccupied with whoever was in the middle of their pack, shouting and taking quick pictures.

Ron pulled her to the side of the road before the crowd had a change to trample her. "Are you okay?" he said. She huffed in response which made him a bit upset. "We stick together, Hermione," he reminded her sternly.

She nodded. "Alright."

"Hermione?"

The voice sounded very familiar, but it came from the crowd that had now halted in the middle of the street. Before either of them had a chance to inquire who had said Hermione's name, the crowd parted to show none other than Viktor Krum walking towards them.

"Viktor!" Hermione exclaimed, surprised. She greeted him with a hug.

Ron's body tensed as he stood there awkwardly.

"I didn't expect to see you here!" Hermione said, while Krum shook Ron's reluctant hand.

"I could say the same to you," he smiled. "Vot are you doing here?"

Ron could see Hermione get flustered with all the people around them, listening to their conversation. Knowing that she probably didn't want to disclose any information, he took her hand again and said, "We just have to take a quick trip to the bank. Come on, Hermione."

"Vait! The bank. It is closed because of the game."

Hermione felt a slight panic arise within her. Without enough Muggle money, they wouldn't have enough to eat or find a room if need be while they were in China or Australia. And at this point, they might have to stay in Germany.

"That's okay, we were just leaving," Ron said suddenly.

"So soon?" asked Krum. "If you are needing help, please, allow me."

"No, we don't-" began Ron, but people started to catch on who they were. After all, their faces were plastered all over the news for months, but now they were celebrated heroes. The crowd and cameras followed the three as they tried to find a safe place to Apparate.

"Actually, we could use your help, Viktor," Hermione said, slightly panicked.

With that, the three of them went to a good vantage point to Apparate to a tall two story home. The house had a circular front garden with a Quidditch-themed fountain in the middle. The house itself was a brown paisley color with white windows and black shutters. The front door's archway was topped with an elaborate crest.

"This is... this is…" mumbled Ron, feeling particularly inadequate.

"…Really generous," Hermione finished, red in the face.

Krum looked down, almost ashamed. "It is too much. I am being here for von veek and the Quidditch League is giving me this."

"Sounds like a real burden. Ow!" Ron's sarcasm was met with Hermione elbowing him in the ribs.

Viktor lead them inside. Just as they imagined, this house was embroidered with tall ceilings and portraits. He led them into the sitting room, where they plopped their luggage on the floor and sat down. A House Elf came into the room with three cups of tea already.

Ron smiled smugly, knowing how Hermione felt about House Elf rights. The House Elf offered the the tray up to each one of them. Ron took a cup and thanked the House Elf kindly, anticipating Hermione's disgust with Krum's treatment to his House Elf.

The House Elf went up to Hermione.

"And what's your name?" she asked gently, while taking her cup.

The House Elf blinked at her.

Krum stared at her through his glassy dark eyes. "He is not speaking English. His name is Behaart."

Hermione nodded and smiled, "Thank you, Behaart."

Behaart bowed and went over to Krum who took his tea and placed a Sickle on the tray. " _Danke_ , Behaart."

Bewildered by his gesture, Hermione beamed. "You- you paid him."

"Vherever I travel, I am given many things. Most of the time, I get a House Elf," he sighed. He blew on his tea. "I pay them, if I cannot give them clothes."

"That's brilliant!" Hermione exclaimed. "Have you always done that?"

"Honestly, I have not. It vos not until your letters on S.P.E.W. that I vos realizing House Elves are living things too. It is not fair how some vizards treat them."

Hermione looked simply elated while Ron suffered from defeat. How was he supposed to compete with that?

"Aren't we supposed to catch a flight soon?" asked Ron rather harshly.

"But without much Muggle money left, we don't have a chance of getting tickets. And it's getting late."

Krum straightened up. "You can stay here for the night. There is plenty of room, of course."

Out of all the things he could have imagined happening during their trip, being spotted and offered hospitality by Viktor Krum was not one of them. And to think that he has been trying to show Hermione that he did care about her by going on this trip with her. It wasn't the only reason for accompanying her on the trip, but it was definitely in the back of his mind. He could kiss goodbye any chance he thought he had with Hermione…

"We would love that. Wouldn't we, Ron?"

They both turned to the sunken red head and he nodded faintly.

"It is settled then." Krum gave the tiniest of smiles.

They finished their tea; Krum and Hermione talked the entire time. They caught up with current events, and the war. Hermione made sure to skip over some of the details, for it was all still fresh in her mind.

While they had a field day talking, Ron felt uncomfortable. He scrutinized Hermione's expressions when talking to Krum and compared them to how she would act when talking to him. He didn't remember her ever laughing that hard over one of _his_ jokes. And Krum wasn't even that funny! Was he even trying to make a joke?

Ron looked down at his tea, the swirling leaves just as bland as their conversation. Any part of the conversation directed at him was met with a snarky remark, making everyone uncomfortable until Hermione brought the conversation back. After a while, they stopped involving Ron altogether, convincing him further that something would have happened between the talkative pair if he wasn't there.

"Vell," Krum said, standing up. "It is getting late. Vould you like me to show you to your room?"

"Finally…" Ron said under his breath, hoisting his luggage onto his shoulders.

Hermione definitely heard Ron's remark, and she was afraid Krum might have heard it too. If he did, however, he chose to ignore it.

Krum and Ron went to grab Hermione's bag at the same time, but she got to it first. "Lead the way!"

They followed him up the stairs. Ron made many snide comments as Krum explained some of the artwork and portraits on the wall. At this point, Hermione was merely a buffer between the two, hoping that Krum wouldn't catch on.

He showed them to the guest room and bid them goodnight. Hermione thanked him again and shut the door. She immediately put a silencing charm on the room and hit Ron with a jolt of her wand.

"What the hell!" he exclaimed, reaching for his bruised forearm.

"I can't believe you did that," Hermione snapped, violently setting up her bed.

"Did what?"

"Come on, I know you're not stupid!" Ron still refused to show any sign of understanding. "Viktor!" she reminded him, exasperated. "I thought we were passed this!"

"He obviously fancies you!"

"So what if he does? I can't control how he feels. He knows where I stand, and that's enough for me."

"And where do you stand?"

"I don't fancy him, Ronald! I fancy you!" She knew this wasn't a good time. But, Merlin! She was angry.

"Me?" he said thickly.

"Yes, you!" she said, her heart pounding loudly in her eardrums. "Why do you- why do you think I kissed you?"

Ron's mouth was hanging open. "I thought- it was a- now or never situation."

"It was," Hermione sighed. She started pacing and talking really fast. "I didn't know how you felt because it was such an impulse, and we were at war, and you could have died, and you mentioned the House Elves, and that showed you did pay attention, and I just thought it would-"

"Merlin, woman! Do you ever breathe?" said Ron.

"I'm trying to be serious here!"

He sighed, ashamed. "I'm sorry."

Red in the face, Hermione folded her arms and stared at Ron expectantly.

He sat down on the side of the bed, and indicated for her to sit next to him. "I think we've waited long enough."

Hermione, not entirely sure if this was the best thing to do as a guest in Viktor Krum's house, took to Ron's left. She breathed in firmly and slowly let it out. "Alright," she agreed, steadying her hands from shaking. "But I'm still mad at you."

"Fair enough."


	5. Nightmares

Journey to You

Chapter 5: Nightmares

* * *

" _Ten hours?!"_ Ron exclaimed. "You're barking!"

"I'm not keen on this flight either, but we can't afford to stop in the middle." Hermione paid for their tickets and walked away, Ron at her heels. "I don't want to waste any more time than we have already."

"But we didn't waste any time," he huffed. "We had tea with Krum and slept in his wonderfully decorated guest house."

That last bit was a bit of an exaggeration. As a matter of fact, they didn't sleep much at all last night. The pair talked for hours about everything: Harry, Krum, the war, his family, her family, each other… Hermione had been afraid that it might not have been the right time, but in hindsight, she should have talked to him sooner. She shouldn't have been so nervous, knowing now that he, too, had been nervous. If it was possible, their perspectives about one another had changed. With all of their feelings for each other out in the open, it was easy to focus on the mission.

Hermione stopped at a flight times board that read "Beijing – 8:15 am" and sighed of relief. She and Ron sat down facing the huge window exposing the runway. She was surprised Ron willingly got up before she did, and packed what little they had unpacked. So, she expected him to slouch into his seat and fall asleep immediately.

She hid her blushed face with her hair when he did just that and unashamedly put an arm around her shoulder, bringing her closer to him. She froze only for a few seconds, and she tried a glance up at the dozing red head. The sight of him made her smile.

"Just think," she suggested quietly. "You'll be able to sleep for ten hours."

He opened his eyes to look down at her, eyebrow raised. "That's if the bloody thing doesn't get tired and plummets to the ground…"

She chuckled. "You're telling me that you wouldn't try to levitate the plane to safety?"

"Oh, I would," he nodded. "But not for _ten bloody hours_."

She leaned into him some more and scooped her feet up onto the seat. "Everything will be fine."

They looked out at the early morning horizon, orange and pink highlighting the sky. Hermione prayed, as she allowed her eyes to close, that her parents were alive to see this beautiful sky…

"Hey," Ron shook Hermione awake. "I think we're about to board."

Has it been an hour already? It felt like she had just closed her eyes. Nevertheless, they boarded the plane and placed their luggage in the compartment above them. Ron allowed Hermione to take the window seat, as he was still anxious about being on the ends. He resorted to the middle again, okay with whoever ended up sitting next to him.

He regulated his breathing as Hermione held his hand. "Everything is fine."

"Yeah," he nodded quickly, shaking slightly. "Yeah. We're fine." He closed his eyes. "Remind me again why we're not Apparating?"

"Any magic is too risky still. Neither of us have been to China, so it's not like we can just wing it."

He nodded again. "Right."

A stout man sat down next to Ron. He did not speak English, but he was speaking very fast to himself it seemed. Ron leaned to Hermione and whispered, "Who is he talking to?"

She looked over at the man and replied back. "He's using a cellphone."

"A phone? In the sky?" Ron scrunched his face. "Don't you need a wire for that?"

Hermione smiled at him serenely, thinking of how adorable he was when he wanted to learn more about her culture. "Not anymore. It's a fairly new concept. They're mobile telephones. You can just carry one with you wherever you go, so you're able to contact anyone from anywhere."

Impressed, Ron commented, "For not having any magic, Muggles are really innovative."

A half hour later and they were ascending high above the clouds. They never let go of the other's hand until a flight attendant came by with complimentary drinks.

"Oh, thank Merlin!" Ron mumbled. "I need one of those."

He handed one to Hermione and sniffed his own. "Wow, that's strong."

"Come on," Hermione chided. "If you knock it back, it should be fine."

"And what do you know about drinks like this?"

She sat up straight, and examined the liquid closely. She swirled it slightly, smelled it, and took a small sip. "The aftertaste has a bite to it," she said, wincing. "But warm going down. I'm going to say, it's a brandy."

Ron looked at her, completely dumbfounded.

"What?" she said, embarrassed.

"Hermione Granger," he smiled at her cheekily. "You are the most phenomenal bird I have ever met."

In response, she held up her drink. "To new beginnings."

"To finding you family," he added.

And with that, they snapped back the brandy in one go. It did not sting like Firewhiskey, but it was warm and inviting. The giddiness of liquid courage, Hermione put her head in the crook of Ron's neck. They watched a black and white film from above them. It was terrible quality and they didn't care to hook up their head sets. They enjoyed the comfort of the movie, of being suspended in the air, of each other…

 _It was dark. The only light was coming from a fireplace a few feet away. Hermione didn't like this place. She thought of going back, but she was afraid that someone was behind her. Someone evil. She stood very still, listening for any sign of friendliness. The crackling of the fire seemed inviting enough. Was she back at the Burrow?_

 _She thought inexplicably of Ron, and felt better. The fire got bigger, exposing more of her surroundings. Pictures of distorted faces plastered the walls. They were laughing at her. She didn't like it. No matter how much she wanted to be by the fire, she knew it would somehow lead to death. She didn't want to die._

 _She had to find her parents._

" _Pssssst!" She jumped at the sudden noise from behind her. She knew someone was there!_

 _A pale woman with crazy black hair, gave a low, menacing chuckle. The woman walked forward, backing Hermione closer to the fire._

" _Are you lost, sweetie?" she cooed, sending shivers down Hermione's spine. The woman pointed her wand at her. "I can help you."_

" _No," Hermione said. "No, please. I just want to go home." She felt the warmth of the fire fade, even though she was just inches away now._

 _The woman's eyes widened, and her lips curled into a crazed smile. "You don't deserve a home. You are filth. He will never love you. You deserve to die. Just like your Mummy and Daddy."_

 _The woman forced Hermione to turn around violently. Horrified, she saw her parents' bodies burned to ashes. She backed into the woman, who grabbed her forearm._

" _NO!" Hermione pleaded, as the woman laughed manically and forced Hermione's forearm into the fire._

" _You failed!" the woman cackled. "No one can save you now!"_

" _Hermione…" came a familiar, hoarse voice from far away. "Hermione… Hermione…"_

"Hermione!" Ron said, shaking her awake.

Heart pounding and sweat on her forehead, her eyes flew open to Ron's concerned face in front of her. She pushed him away and looked around. The portly man next Ron stopped talking into his phone to scrutinize the couple. Hermione shrugged off her embarrassment. "What?"

"Are you okay?"

If she was anywhere else, she would tell him. But there were so many people staring now. She sunk in her seat, still shaking.

Ron stood up and shouted at the flight attendant. "Oi! We need another brandy over here."

The flight attendant, who didn't enjoy being yelled for, took her good old time walking over with their drinks. In the meantime, Ron tried to make Hermione comfortable, shoving pillows behind her head and pushing the hair from off of her sweaty forehead.

"Ron, stop!" Hermione said, shielding herself from his help. "I'm fine."

"You don't have to tell me what happened, but I need you to drink." He shoved one of the cups in front of her, and waited expectantly.

Realizing that he would not except no for an answer, she sipped on the drink.

The flight attendant cleared her throat.

"We're fine now," Ron shooed her away, which made Hermione roll her eyes and give a tired smile. She reached into her bag and gave the flight attendant some money.

Ron slumped to be level with Hermione, both holding onto their drinks.

"What time is it?" she asked, sipping at her drink.

He looked at his magical watch. "It's been about 7 hours." He was impressed. "Time does fly when you're flying."

She nodded. There was a bit of silence, in which Hermione calmed herself down. She tugged at her sleeve where Bellatrix had scarred her. She hated not being able to sleep consistently. She hated these nightmares because she wasn't scared of them in her waking life. Bellatrix's face was always so clear yet shadowed in her dreams, anyone else would be too scared to sleep again. But Hermione knew she needed to see her dreams through. It was the only way to get over them.

"Wonder how everyone's doing back home," said Ron, breaking the silence. He gulped his drink and scrunched his face at the punch of it. "I bet George could drink stronger stuff."

"I don't think that's a good thing," Hermione commented wearily.

"Don't worry. Ginny and Angelina seemed to have him under control." He took another sip. "I hope Harry's not pulling Ginny along though."

Hermione raised her eyebrow. "I don't think Harry has time to be at the Burrow. I heard Auror training is really extensive."

Ron slumped. "I should have signed up."

"You did the right thing," she consoled him, patting his knee. "Finishing your N.E.W.T.s is always a smart move."

"But I'm not going back. I want to help George with the shop."

Hermione scoffed. "But, why not spend your time wisely and finish up school?"

"Because you know how much I loved school," said Ron sarcastically. He downed the rest of his drink while Hermione grilled him with the benefits of going back to Hogwarts. Of course, he had thought about it, but his family meant more to him than education. And he's got enough experience in the real world that would be equivalent to ten years at Hogwarts.

Eventually, Ron begrudgingly agreed to at least consider going back, just to get her to stop going on about it.

She knew that he didn't mean it, but she dropped it anyway. She sat there, drinking the warm alcohol, disappointed. Secretly, she fantasized about being with Ron at Hogwarts. She wanted to have study dates, mindless walks in Hogsmeade, maybe a snog or two after he assisted in a Gryffindor win from the latest Quidditch game. But that was just all in her head.

There was a staleness in the air when they finally landed in Beijing, like they were back to not explaining how they felt. That, along with just getting off of a ten-hour flight, exhausted them.

"Sydney, Australia… Sydney, Australia…" Hermione whispered, scanning the flight board above. This board was a lot bigger and switching faster than the one in London and Munich, making it difficult to read.

Sensing Hermione's stress, Ron put a hand on her shoulder and suggested, "Why don't we wait until tomorrow?"

She continued searching the whirling flight times. "I can find it."

"I don't doubt it," he said, gently guiding her away from the bustling crowds coming every which way. "It's late. We could do with some real sleep."

She slumped as they turned a corner, furrowing her brow in deep thought. Sometimes she just couldn't shut off her brain, especially when there was so much at stake. "If we find somewhere tonight, we have to be out of here really early. It'll be about eleven hours this time."

Ron went stiff and imagined sitting in the same spot, suspended in the air with a Muggle contraption for eleven hours. "Can't we just Apparate?" he chuckled nervously.

"I told you, we'd need to have had been there before to Apparate. We'd need a good vantage point."

Suddenly, Ron stopped in his tracks, and Hermione turned around to see his face light up. "What about a Portkey?"

"A Portkey?"

"Yeah!" He strode over to her, grasping onto her upper arms. "The Magical Embassy should be here somewhere. Maybe we can tell them where we need to go. We're practically royalty! They'd have to do it."

"Ron…" she looked weary, but he was simply beaming.

"We're close enough now too! They could just send an owl to Australia to set it up."

Hermione thought about it thoroughly. Ron wasn't wrong: they were at a decent vantage point for a Portkey to reach Australia. "We'd risk being incognito..."

"Screw incognito! These are your parents we're talking about," he said seriously. "The sooner we get to them, the better."

It took all of her strength not to kiss him like she did a month ago. So, she sufficed with a hug, and he reciprocated with nervous laughter and a squeeze.

When they broke apart, she sighed, relieving some stress. "Let's go find the Embassy."

Thankfully, Hermione brought some of her books on _International Magical Communications_. The Chinese Magical Embassy was located in Bejing, not too far away from the airport.

On their way there, Hermione was overwhelmed by the architecture and culture in China. Yes, she was there for a purpose, but she couldn't help but want to explore the world after this was all over. She has been to different countries before, but there is so much more to discover. So much, still, to understand.

Ron saw the wonder and awe in her eyes; he was both amazed by and scared of it. What if she left him for bigger and better things one day? After all, he was a simple man deep down. That couldn't be all Hermione wanted.

It didn't take long to register a Portkey, especially since the witches and wizards there seemed to know who they were. Word about Voldemort's downfall traveled fast around the world, and everybody knew what the Chosen One and his friends looked like. This was what Hermione feared; she didn't want people knowing who they were, afraid that any Voldemort supporter would find and kill them. But Ron's touch reassured her as they held hands through the Wizarding World in Beijing.

They found a nice hotel room atop a noodle house in the city. They had to admit, they did feel quite at home in the Wizarding World again.

They took a Dreamless Sleep before bed, but the affects were futile.

Ron struggled with the explosions from the final battle, his brother's dead body still fresh in his mind. In the midst of his dream, he heard Hermione screaming. He couldn't find her, which scared him immensely. He woke up to Hermione actually whimpering for help in her sleep.

Ron quickly got up and shook Hermione awake. She opened her eyes, terrified and crying, grabbing her forearm. She buried her head into his chest as he held her tight.

"S'over, 'Mione," he muffled in her hair. "She's dead."

"I know…" She had a little taste of what Harry had to deal with, and it was terrible. She didn't care that she was branded as a Mudblood; it was the terrible acts that Bellatrix performed on her that she remembered. She could do with never experiencing that pain and torture ever again.

Once Hermione's shaking sobs dissolved into sniffles, Ron released his grip. But, Hermione reached out. "Please stay," she whispered. She scooted over, leaving room for Ron.

Blushing slightly, Ron moved more on the bed. He didn't get under the covers, feeling a bit awkward to be invading her space. He tensed slightly when she cuddled up against him. She let out a content exhale. He smiled, stoking her hair, finally falling asleep without a terrible nightmare awaiting them.


	6. The Counter-Curse

Journey to You

Chapter 6: The Counter-Curse

* * *

It was _hot_! Hotter than either of them expected. Queensland was a pretty big state, but Hermione made sure to choose a place relaxing and sunny. Sydney was too predictable for the Wizarding community if the Death Eaters or the Ministry found out. So, she gave them the incentive to go to the Queensland coast. The trouble was Queensland had a very large coast. It would take them forever, in Hermione's opinion, to find them.

They started at the bottom of the Queensland coast, Surfer's Paradise. They traveled through the entire residential area, stopping only to rest for a little while. By nightfall, Hermione started to get disheartened.

"There's no way," she whimpered. " _No bloody way_ I can actually find them. It would have to be fate."

It suddenly dawned on Ron. "There is a way!" He grabbed Hermione's hand and ran down a few blocks.

"Why are we going back?" she demanded, but he was too excited to answer.

They arrived at a phone booth with a directory inside. Ron flipped through the pages quickly. "Do you think they kept their names?"

"I- I changed their names," she said, thinking that they had reached another setback, but Ron just shrugged. "Monica and Wendell Wilkins."

"D'you think, after all of your brilliant spell casting, that they'd still have a passion for fixing teeth?"

She paused, flabbergasted. "You mean would they still be dentists?"

"You said it's their passion, right? To own their own… their own-"

"Dentistry." Hermione's heart was beating quickly. "They've always wanted their own dentist practice together, ever since they graduated from University." She beamed, looking through the list of all the dentist offices on the Queensland coast. "Ron, you are absolutely _brilliant_!" She exclaimed before kissing him full on the mouth. She didn't care if it was too forward. It was a lead! And Ron helped her get there.

Ron, on the other hand, stood dumbstruck, ears red, and sporting dopey grin while Hermione continued to cipher through the directory book.

"How did you even think to come here?" she asked him.

Still red in the face and smiling, he shrugged. "I remember you talking about these books when I told you about the visitor's entrance at the Ministry."

"That was years ago…"

"I know."

There it was in black ink: _Wilkins Dentistry_. "Scarborough, Queensland." Hermione choked up. She found them! Well, she knew where to go. They Apparated on the spot.

It was dark. No lights were on in the small building. They were _so close_ …

"Why don't we find a place to spend the night. I'm _starving_!"

Hermione couldn't help but laugh at Ron's remark. She was giddy, probably too excited to sleep. "Alright, but somewhere close by."

They went to a diner and found a small motel for the night. It was like the other day was an invitation to sleeping in the same bed again. This time, they kissed goodnight, mostly out of excitement for the day ahead of them. It was felt so comforting and familiar that neither of them experienced night terrors.

Hermione knew that convincing her parents would not be an easy task, and the next day, she set off on a new plan. Ron got them both breakfast while she brainstormed a strategy. On his way back with a bag full of food, he bumped into a woman. They both dropped their things.

"Sorry," Ron mumbled, picking up his stuff and helping with hers.

"It's quite alright there," she laughed. "In a bit of a rush as well."

She gave Ron a sweet smile, and Ron almost toppled over. "You!"

The woman, picking up the last of her items, gave Ron an inquisitive look. "Have we met?" She had a hint of an Australian accent, but Ron could tell she was British.

"Are- are you- Mrs. Granger?" he sputtered.

Her eyes glossed over, but she still kept her smile, "No, I'm sorry. You must have the wrong person."

Ron found this very odd. "Sorry," he said. "I thought you were someone I knew."

"That's quite alright," she said. She made to walk passed him. "Gooday." And she was gone.

Ron ran back to their motel room, and told her hurriedly about his encounter.

"Of course she didn't say who she was!" Hermione said exasperatedly. "She'd be a Wilkins, not a Granger!" They didn't even bother eating breakfast or finishing up a plan. They were too eager to see if Ron actually crossed paths with Hermione's mother.

They arrived back at the little dentist office, standing in the doorway. Ron took Hermione's hand and gave her a reassuring squeeze. They both smiled.

With a newfound courage, Hermione opened the door…

There was a nice receptionist at the front desk, asking them if they had an appointment.

"Erm, no," Hermione said. "We're new in town, and we are looking for a new dentist."

"New applicants, eh?" Ron and Hermione nodded. "Well, you have to fill out these forms…"

"I was wondering if I could have a word with the owners?"

The receptionist scrutinized the pair of them. "You English have the weirdest way about you." She turned in her swivel chair and headed into a back room. Hermione was controlling her breathing and shifting her weight from one side to another. Ron looked around and saw children holding thick devices that made noises and adults were reading magazines that had no moving pictures. He felt Hermione grab his arm tight and gasp. He looked at her, who had a transfixed face, almost in tears. He followed her gaze to a man and a woman walking towards them.

"I _did_ see her this morning!" Ron whispered to Hermione quickly. "I _knew_ it!"

"So, we meet again, eh, mate?" said Hermione's mother, smiling. "This must be a sign."

Hermione's father shook their hands. Hermione was so close to tears, Ron had to be the one to say something.

"Yeah, weird, isn't it," he smiled back. "Like we said, we're new here, and we wanted to find good erm- _dentists-_ to have."

"Well, come on in!" said Mr. Wilkins, motioning them to follow him and his wife into their office.

The four of them sat down.

"Alright, well, we'd like to start with your names," said Mrs. Wilkins, pen in hand.

Ron looked at Hermione, but she was still unable to speak. He held her hand as he said, "Granger. I'm Ron and this is Hermione. Hermione Granger."

Both of her parents seemed to look past them with vacant smiles.

"What an interesting name," said Mrs. Wilkins.

"Does it sound familiar to you?" Ron asked.

"It wouldn't, Ron," croaked Hermione before either of the adults could respond. "Listen, Mr. and Mrs. Wilkins, you don't remember me, but we've met before."

They looked very confused. "Have we now?" said Mr. Wilkins. "But you are new to Scarborough?"

"Yes." She seemed to get her confidence back. "But we've met in England. In Heathgate, London."

The couple looked at each other for a moment. Mr. Wilkins smiled knowingly. "You must be mistaken."

"I know it sounds too bizarre to be true," Hermione continued, she took out her wand. "But you're going to have to trust me."

The Wilkins' jumped out of their seats, looking alarmed.

"Wait!" said Ron, halting everyone in their tracks. "Why don't we just calm down."

"Ron, I-"

"Hermione, I'd like to speak to Mr. and Mrs. Wilkins alone for a moment."

"But-"

Ron gave Hermione a pleading look, and after a silent stare down, Hermione finally got up and shut the door behind her.

"I'm really sorry about her," said Ron. The couple settled back down, still looking doubtful. "She hasn't been right ever since… the… accident."

Mrs. Wilkins gasped. "Oh, my!"

"It's okay, she'll live a relatively normal life," he said. His palms were sweaty, and hoped they didn't pick up that he was making all of this up as he went along. "The only thing is… well… erm, she hasn't been right in the head." He leaned forward, and whispered, "She thinks she can do magic."

"But what does this have to do with us?" said Mr. Wilkins.

"Well, it's funny you mention that. We came to Australia for a bit of sun, you know? She saw you a bunch of times and thought it was fate. That you were… her parents."

"But that's insane!" laughed Mr. Wilkins. "She travels half-way around the world and settles on us?"

"Look, she doesn't have much time to live!"

"But you just said-"

"Never mind what I said," Ron interrupted, inwardly cursing himself for making it so easy for them to catch his lies. "She found a stick in on the ground, calls it a wand. She wants to do a sort of spell. I don't know how or why, but you let her do this and we'll be out of your way forever."

He knew he was losing them.

"I don't know…"

"Please," Ron begged. All lies aside, he settled on telling the truth. After all, they wouldn't remember it anyway. "I love that crazy woman out there. And I want to be there for her, no matter what. Just, do this one thing. If not for her, then for me."

The couple looked at one another, and, to Ron's relief, tentatively agreed.

Ron let Hermione back in. "Go ahead," he said, taking her wand out of her pocket and placing it in her hand.

Hermione blinked, astonished that Ron had actually got her parents to comply. "Al-alright. Ron, close the doors and blinds."

Undoubtedly, the couple was alarmed yet again, but Ron gave them a reassuring smile. They held each others' hands, staring straight at the tip of Hermione's wand. She, closed her eyes and took a deep breath to center herself. Once she opened her eyes, there was a concentration about her, and she started the process.

Ron watched in awe at Hermione's skilled handiwork. She was mumbling words rapidly as she flicked her wrist slowly and with much precision. She didn't blink. At first, jets of light were erupting from her wand and going straight to her parents' faces, which were now in a trans-like state. Then, lights started coming from their heads and into her wand, looking like a reversal of the process. Was it even working? Ron started to panic.

"Hermione…" whispered Ron, concerned.

She held up her wandless hand to silence him, never breaking eye contact with her parents or stopping her incantations. Ron had to trust her.

He turned to her parents; their eyes were still fuzzy and unfocused. He sat down in a chair, waiting as patiently as he could. He admired Hermione's determination and magical ability. She was truly an amazing witch…

"Ron, get up," Hermione said suddenly, waking Ron from his thoughts. Her wand was still vacuuming lights from their eyes, but they looked a little more focused.

"It's working," he whispered. He smiled at her, but she was still centered.

"I need you to hold them down," she said. "There's a chance it might backfire."

"Backfire?"

"Just do it."

Ron walked around the desk and held them down by their shoulders, looking at Hermione's face. She was so beautiful and brilliant and he loved her.

"Alright, they're coming to," she whispered. "There's going to be a really bright light in a few seconds, so I need you to close your eyes."

He nodded.

"Ready?"

He closed his eyes just as the bright light came in his direction and hit the couple. He had to hold both of them down because they immediately started to jump out of their seats. It was difficult since he had to keep his eyes closed.

Someone knocked on the door now. "Is everything alright in there?"

"Everything's fine," shouted Ron. "Just a… beautiful, sunny day, isn't it?"

"Nearly finished," whispered Hermione.

Ron had to put all of his weight onto the pair of them from falling back in their chairs. Any more of this and all three of them would topple over from the magnitude of the spell. If it was at all possible, the light got brighter, so much so that Ron was scrunching his eyes as tight as he could. And then, the light was gone. He chanced opening his eyes, and saw Hermione's exhausted figure examining her parents.

"You okay?" he asked, walking around to her side.

She nodded, breathing steadily. "Relax," she whispered to herself. "Relax… relax…"

The two of them glanced at the limp pair. They looked just as exhausted as Hermione was. At last, they looked up, eyes scrunched as if they have been looking at the sun for far too long. Hermione squeezed Ron's hand as her heart quickened.

Her mother focused her eyes and looked around. She finally landed upon the two apprehensive young adults.

"Hermione?"

She gasped and ran across the room. "Mum!" she cried. She hugged her mother tight.

"Sweetheart, why are you crying?" said her father.

"Dad!" She grabbed hold of her father as well, engulfing them both in a sobbing embrace.

Ron smiled wide at the reunion, and thought of his own family. He couldn't wait until he was back home with Hermione finally happily reunited with her parents. He knew that there was a lot that they had to discuss, so he was going to give them their space. He went to open the door, but Hermione stopped him.

"Ron, I want you to meet my parents," she smiled, still crying happy tears. She knew Ron was just as important in this mission. She loved him, and she wanted him to be a part of her life forever.


	7. The Moment

Journey to You

Chapter 7: The Moment

* * *

"Finished?" said Ron from the kitchen entryway. "We're thinking of packing in here next."

Hermione folded a letter and turned around. "Just about," she sighed. "I need to send this to Kingsley immediately. I'll be back."

"Where are you going?" Mr. Granger asked, walking into the kitchen with a huge box.

She lifted an eyebrow. "You don't expect me to just think us back to England, do you?"

"Hey, you were able to erase my memory," he teased. "Frankly, you are capable of a lot more than we ever imagined."

"And it's not scary at all," added Mrs. Granger cheekily. She kissed Hermione on her temple and said, "Come back soon, yeah? I may have been someone else for a year, but I still remember how to make a mean stew."

Hermione passed Ron and walked towards the front door. "Want me to come with you?" he asked.

She considered him for a moment. Then, she shook her head. "I'd rather you stay with Mum and Dad. I don't want to lose sight of them."

Ron furrowed his brow, wanting to admit that he didn't want to lose sight of her either. He knew that she would be able to take care of herself, but still. They were in a foreign country after all. For all they knew, they were still in danger. Nevertheless, Ron nodded stiffly. "Please, be careful."

Hermione replied with a quick peck on Ron's cheek. "I will."

Ron learned very quickly how Hermione was just like her parents. The way they discussed how to best place the cutlery into one box was very methodical and rational. And it was also, in Ron's opinion, quite pointless. But, he let the couple converse, not wanting to seem intrusive. He found it so easy to argue with Hermione over these trivial matters, but he was nervous to stand up to her parents so directly.

"The plates should go on the bottom, in size order. Then, the cutlery," mulled Mr. Granger, rubbing his mustache with his thumb in thought. Ron levitated the kitchenware on the table, stacking all of them together.

Mrs. Granger shook her head. "The stack is too high for the box. It would just be easier to stack the larger ones on the bottom, place the smaller plates on their side, and fill in the rest of the room with cutlery." Again, Ron took direction.

"There would be more damage."

"Not if we used newspaper to cushion the impact for the trip."

"Darling, that would be a lot of newspaper."

Mrs. Granger folded her arms and bit the inside of her lip, a habit, Ron recalled, that Hermione had when she would think about something important. "We can get newspaper. It's not that hard."

"What do you suggest, Ron?"

Mr. Granger's question shocked the young man, as both pairs of eyes were on him. He was not expecting to be part of this discussion. "Well," he said, praying that he didn't sound stupid in front of Hermione's parents. "I could just form the box to fit everything. Or I could replicate copies of newspaper."

Mr. and Mrs. Granger looked at each other as Ron shuffled his feet nervously.

"Well that doesn't help us," chuckled Mrs. Granger.

"Sorry."

"Don't be," Mr. Granger reassured him with a clap to Ron's back. "We like your ideas. We just need you to pick one."

Mrs. Granger ruffled a stack of paper to find an old newspaper. "Usually, Hermione just interrupts us and solves things like this with magic."

"But, not all the time," Mr. Granger added. "She told us the laws about not using magic outside school until you're eighteen."

"Seventeen… actually," Ron couldn't resist, but Mr. Granger nodded.

"Ah, that's right…" His eyes glossed over for a second, as if in a daydream.

Ron looked at Mrs. Granger, who was also aware of her husband staring off into space.

"Mr. Granger?" Ron said, placing a hand on his shoulder.

The older man shook his head and stared at Ron as if looking at him for the first time.

"Are you alright, dear?" asked Mrs. Granger.

"Yes," he said slowly, refocusing. "Sorry, I… just… had a moment."

Ron's mind was racing. What if the spell didn't work as well as it should have? "What happened?"

Mr. Granger squinted his eyes, a concentrated look upon his face. "I just phased out for a moment. I am very tired. Why do you ask?"

"I just want to make sure you're alright."

"Nothing to worry about," he said, smiling. "Now, let's get to packing. Hermione should be back any minute."

Mrs. Granger, although wary about leaving her husband after seeing him space out, left the kitchen to fold and pack the linens in another room.

"Hermione's told us all about you and Harry," conversed Mr. Granger. "But a lot more about you."

Ron tensed up. He knew how much of a hard time he gave Hermione through the years. "Good things?" he chanced.

"Mostly good things," the man said. "But I could tell that she cares about you."

"I care about her too."

"I have no doubt about that… Why else would you accompany her to find us?" Mr. Granger was silent for a while. Ron glanced up to check if he went through another trans; however, he looked as if he was debating on saying something. "I can't help but wonder if you have other intentions."

"Sir?"

"I see the way you look at my daughter, and that's no vague stare into space, I'll tell you that." He gave a knowing smile. "And you don't have to tell me you'll take care of her. We both know she can take care of herself just fine."

Ron considered him, his palms sweaty. "Well, I guess, I love her, and I want nothing but the best for her."

Mr. Granger nodded. "I see we have something in common."

"I'm back!" Hermione called from the front door.

Relief rushed over Ron as he strode over to her. "Well?"

Hermione looked a bit flush, but that could have easily been from the heat outside. "We're all set," she beamed.

Ron felt a whooping sensation in his stomach as he picked her up and spun her around. "You did it!"

" _We_ did it," she corrected him.

He put her back down, but the excitement quickly halted to them staring into each other's eyes. Ron's instinct was to kiss her. All roads in this scenario lead for him to kiss her. And she looked expectant.

Unfortunately, their moment passed when Mrs. Granger came in with a tall basket of folded laundry. "Oh! Hermione, I'm glad your back. Would you be able to shrink these? I have more in the back room, but I'd rather fit it all in one- Oh, I'm sorry," she interrupted herself, realizing what position her daughter and Ron were in. Naturally, she put two and two together, and felt terrible. "Did I interrupt something?"

Hermione let go of Ron, who was on his way back to the kitchen. "No, not at all," she said quickly. "Of course, I'll help, Mum."

With the help of magic, the Granger's valuable items were all packed up and ready to be shipped back to England. Kingsley's letter arrived the night before they departed for the longest plane ride Ron would ever have to endure. It said that an Advanced Guard would be there to escort them from the London Airport to back home.

The twenty-hour flight was full of conversation and catching up. Hermione and Ron told them of their missions with Harry, but made sure to be brief and ambiguous. Anyone could be listening in, and they didn't want to chance being caught. They left out some gruesome details to spare Mr. and Mrs. Granger some grief, like the fight at Malfoy Manor and bits about the Battle of Hogwarts. Of course, her parents were concerned about the lengths that their daughter and her friends went to. But, at the end of the day, they were proud of Hermione and relieved that she was alive after all that had happened.

Ron gathered that Hermione was very close to her parents. They shared witty jokes and memories of different vacations. Hermione laughed a lot during the flight, of which Ron thoroughly enjoyed. He was happy to see her so full of life again: her eyes scrunched up, her cheeks full of mirth, showing off her pearly teeth. It was so refreshing and heartwarming that he didn't realize that they were descending into the London Airport.

A sea of red greeted them at the gate; their Advanced Guard was Ron's family and Harry. He ran over to his mother, who looked as if she needed Ron's affection the most.

Mrs. Weasley squeezed Ron by his torso. "I'm so glad you're home!" she cried.

It warmed his heart to see her cry of joy this time around, considering how she was before they left. "So am I," he admitted.

Harry looked very worn, but relieved to see his best friends in one piece.

"I'm glad you're home," said Ginny, hugging Hermione. "It's been _so_ _boring_ with no one around."

"Hey!" Charlie chided, giving Ron a robust one-armed hug. "I told you all about the Romanian Longhorns I've been training. How is that boring?"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "I rest my case."

"Where's Dad?"

His mother answered him. "Why, he's right- Oh, for Merlin's sake!"

Lo and behold, Arthur Weasley was chatting with a flight attendant a few feet away.

"Arthur!" called Mrs. Weasley. "Your son is here!"

Mr. Weasley turned around. When he saw Ron, he immediately forgot about the flight attendant, who looked rather glad to be rid of the old man, and he gave him a warm embrace. "We've missed you, Ron," he said, a twinkle in his eye. "How was flying?"

Ron chuckled. "Brutal. But you'd love it."

They all accompanied the Grangers to their home in Heathgate. It was too small for everyone to fit in, but they managed. It was the most people the Grangers had ever had in that house, and they were not keen to have this many people again. The Grangers were quiet and orderly. Having this many people in their little house was a bit overwhelming, even for Hermione, who was used to the chaos of the Weasley clan.

Knowing that Hermione would want to stay with her family, he knew it was only a matter of time before he left for the Burrow without her. He would see her again, but it just wouldn't be right leaving without a proper goodbye. His mind flashed back to the Yule Ball five years ago. Hermione had told him to pluck up the courage to say what he wanted to say. He tried to do that during Bill and Fleur's wedding. He tried to do that when he came back from leaving her and Harry in the woods. He tried to do that numerous times after this bloody war was over. He tried to do that back in Australia. Coming to the quite concrete conclusion, he asked Hermione to accompany him outside while everyone else said their goodbyes.

They stepped out into the small backyard in silence. Ron held out his sweaty hand, cocking one eyebrow and grinning goofily. Hermione chuckled softly and put her hand in his. They walked further into the yard.

"I talked to your Dad-"

"I know," she said, turning pink. "I overheard the two of you."

He stopped them in the middle, looking embarrassed. "So, so you heard me say…?"

Hermione shifted. "I actually heard you both times," she admitted.

"Both times?" Ron asked, confused.

She nodded. "Once when you told Dad, and the other back in the dentist office, telling Mr. and Mrs. Wilkins about my terminal illness."

They both laughed nervously, trying to break the tension.

Ron glanced down at Hermione's expectant face. The same face she gave when they were in Australia. "I'm not a romantic person," said Ron. "I don't know how girls work, and even if I think I got it, I say the wrong thing."

"I don't want you to be perfect, Ron."

He caressed her face in pure admiration. "But you _deserve_ perfect."

She placed her arms around his neck, forcing them closer together. "You said the right thing."

And he kissed her this time. It was just like their first kiss but without thinking that it might be their last. They kissed like they had a tomorrow, like they had their whole lives ahead of them. He lifted her off the ground and she was flying.

They finally broke apart, staring into each other's eyes.

"I love you, too," she whispered. They both beamed, their eyes twinkling with happiness.

"Now _that_ ," said Harry, breaking them out of their embrace. "Is what I call 'the moment'."

* * *

A/N: Thank you for allowing me to indulge into my Romione head canon for a bit, and I truly appreciate the followings and comments! My writing might not be perfect, but I'm glad I have a platform to just let it all out. Although this story is over, Ron and Hermione's is not. I have at least two more stories in mind for them. Spoilers: they might not be as happy as this one, and the last one is AU (because I created my own version of the Cursed Child in my head after I didn't like what I read). I will definitely explain when I get there, but for now, I'll see you on the flip side ;)


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